The Bright Side Running Club by Josie Lloyd

Author:Josie Lloyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

56

WE ALL SLEEP BADLY, and it’s miserable in the kitchen on Monday morning without Pooch. I keep looking at my phone for news from Hayley. It’s almost impossible to function with the fifty-fifty odds rattling around in my head. The thought that Pooch might never come home from the vet’s is worse than everything that’s happened to me in the past few months. Every time my mind goes to imagining a world without Pooch, I get practically winded with terror.

There’s a guy from a local firm refitting the glass and lock on the front door, which will hopefully restore our security, but I still feel residually annoyed that there have been so many strangers in my home. Normally, maybe I wouldn’t mind, but the sanctity of my space feels particularly important at the moment, and Tilly’s party feels like a violation. Particularly when it comes to the bathrooms and the bedrooms. Gross. I don’t even want to think about what might have gone on in there.

It doesn’t help that Tom has claimed the angry-patrician high ground, which leaves me somewhat floundering around. Because he’s definitely not hearing me up there on fury heights, where the cold winds of indignation howl loudly.

“Bea?” I call, annoyed that she’s dragging her heels. She’ll be late for school at this rate.

“Bea, come on,” Tom calls, determined to be more annoyed than me. He’s dropping her off on the way to the office, and he can’t be late. He’s doing up his shirt and he doesn’t give me my usual morning kiss.

“Bea,” I try again a few minutes later, frowning at Tom. Her toast is getting cold. Then, growling with annoyance, I go upstairs past the workman in the hall, who says, without a glimmer of humility, “When you’re ready, I’ll have a cuppa. White, two sugars.”

Tilly is kneeling on the pink fluffy rug in front of Bea, who is curled up on her bed. She’s only half dressed in her school skirt and dressing gown. Tilly hands Bea Mr. Bluebear—a huge teddy that once went everywhere with her. Bea takes it and cries even harder. Jacob puts his hand on Bea’s shoulder and then pulls a worried face at me.

“What’s going on?”

I know she’s upset about Pooch, but this is a little over-the-top.

“Just tell her,” Jacob says to Bea.

“Tell me what?”

Bea sniffs loudly and says in a little voice, “Pooch didn’t eat the chocolates.”

“What?”

“I did. Before we went to Granny’s. They were under the cushion on the bench.”

Relief washes through me. Pooch isn’t going to die of chocolate poisoning. The poor little chap’s probably just got a bug. I scoot Jacob out of the way and sit down next to her on the bed.

“You should have said.”

“I was too …” She hiccups. “Too … embarrassed.”

“Oh, darling,” I say, lifting her to a sitting position and folding her and Mr. Bluebear into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“I thought you’d be cross with me because they were your special I’m sorry you’ve got cancer chocolates,” she manages shakily.

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